Pear Hips
by AGRey70
Summary: Kurt hates his hips; Blaine begs to differ. One-shot!


Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

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><p>'<em>Pear hips….'<em>

The countertenor sighed dramatically, sniffing as if about to burst into zealous tears.

'_That's what she called them….pear hips!'_

"Damn this feminine figure of mine! I AM NOT A GIRL!" The auburn haired boy shot up with a start, throwing his pillow violently at the door.

Unfortunately it was open and the pillow hit an oblivious Finn carrying a plate of grilled cheese and a glass of Dr. Pepper. It knocked the already clumsy giant off kilter and he stumbled spilling his soda all over himself and his lunch.

Flustered and pissed, the quarterback lost it, "What the hell dude? Didn't you see me walking here? What's your problem?" Finn's cheeks flaming as he scolded the now shocked soprano, blushing embarrassingly.

Finn had expected Kurt to retaliate with a string of clever comebacks, he'd expected Kurt to jump up and slam the door in his face, he even expected Kurt to throw something else of the sharper or heavier quality.

He didn't expect the countertenor to breakdown in fitful sobs. _'WHAT THE-SHI-!'_

"Kurt! I'm sorry man, I-I-that's-it's fine! I'll clean it!" He couldn't get out of there fast enough, slamming the door behind him. What the hell was that? Finn had experienced the wild dramatics of Kurt Hummel before and even more so now that they lived under the same roof, but spontaneous crying? Out of nowhere? That was new.

"He didn't even…yell at me…" The tall boy muttered to himself as he cleaned up the mess in the hallway. He listened all the while to the pitiful weeping of the auburn haired diva. To say the least, it made Finn feel very, VERY awkward and frankly, uncomfortable as heck.

He knew that the only person in the world to console his over-sensitive step-brother would be someone clam, dapper, suave—someone with the initials "B and A".

Someone like Blaine Anderson!

The plan was set; the only problem now was getting Blaine's number—which only existed in Kurt's phone contacts.

Finn stared at the closed door—he breathed in and out-he turned the knob.

"HEY KURT, justbarrowingyourphone,I'llreturnitlaterthanks!" He dashed out the room before the countertenor could react, not that he even noticed the intrusion.

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><p>An Hour Later…<p>

The doorbell rang, Finn hurried to answer it. "THANK GOD DUDE! I was sweating bullets waiting for you!" Finn droned out.

Blaine smirked, his lips trembling slightly—he wanted to laugh so bad it hurt. "Where's our boy at?"

Finn swung his head in the direction of the stairs—"Where I left him."

Blaine nodded a 'thank you' and headed upstairs, but not without hearing Finn shout—"Good luck dude!"

The soloist slanted his head and snorted.

He approached Kurt's door, turning the knob gently, "Kurt? Are you-"

As he was fully entering the room, he lost his train of thought when he caught sight of the mass of human that lifelessly lay on the floor boards.

Blaine stifled a giggle, his eyes wide like saucers—"_Kurt?_ Hey, are you alive?" The curly haired boy knelt down next to the countertenor's body; he softly patted Kurt's shoulder and commenced to soothingly rub the younger boy's forearm, all the while mutely inspecting Kurt's rosy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

His heart twitched painfully at the sight of his boyfriend's despair; it was such a profound aura of sadness that Blaine nearly felt himself slipping, wanting to cry like a lost toddler.

He vigorously shooed the feeling away, "Come on-let's move to the bed." He slowly pulled Kurt to his feet and led him to the comfort of expensive, silk sheets. Once settled Blaine situated himself next to Kurt; lying beside the male diva.

It was thickly quiet until Kurt mumbled. Blaine turned his head to look at his beau-"Yes?" His voice kind and insistent.

"Do you think they have liposuction for hips?" His voice tiny and bird-like.

Silence ensued once more, Blaine felt his heart tingle, "Ah…w-what?" he finally said, trying desperately to contain the uncontrollable chuckle that danced impatiently in his throat.

"Either that, or I might slice my-"

"WOAH! WOAH! Hold the phone! Where's all this coming from? Hip lipo? _Kurt_, really?" Blaine looked at the discomfited younger boy dubiously. "WELL! I'm upset okay! I'm furious about this-" Kurt took a breath, "-How would you feel if YOU had PEAR HIPS!" The countertenor's face was flushed like a beat; his eyebrows were knotted, his blue orbs glistening with newly unshed tears.

Blaine blinked.

He blinked again.

Suddenly a goofy smile crossed his face, his eyes brightening mischievously, "I'd feel damn sexy! ME-OW!" He bent his hand in a ridiculous feline manner and softly pawed Kurt in the cheek.

Silence; Kurt blinked.

The countertenor covered his mouth, he squeaked and them an eruption of laughter echoed throughout the room and possibly the house. The auburn haired boy could hardly breathe, clenching his sides. "I-I-I c-c-can't-" another fit of giggles escaped his lips, "—m-make it stop!"

Blaine tittered amusingly, blushing wildly and marveling at his work-he loved cheering up his boyfriend, he loved hearing his laugh and watching him nearly rip seams because of it.

Once the hilarity ended, the two boys fell backwards onto the sheets, huffing exhaustedly. Somewhere in-between sitting next to each other and lying down, they'd woven their fingers together.

Kurt sighed contently, gazing up at his buzzing ceiling fan, "Thanks for that…I really needed it". The soloist smiled, squeezing his beau's hand reassuringly, "Anytime".

"And, p.s.-" Before Kurt knew it, Blaine's lips were connected to his.

The kiss was sweet, touching and deep-Kurt's heart did summersaults and loop-di-loops, love explosions were definitely going off like fireworks. The countertenor hummed with satisfaction before Blaine parted from him.

The soloist grinned, "-I _love_ pears."

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><p><span>AN: Just an idea I had swimming around in my cranium for a while; hope you enjoyed it! :)


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